


Wait For Me To Come Home

by Thefaultinoursummers



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Happy Ending, I'm sorry this is so self indulgent, Lilo bromance - Freeform, M/M, Make Up, Sad Louis, its kind of silly, larry stylinson - Freeform, lots of feelings, mentions of zayn and niall, stupid boys in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-04
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-19 01:32:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4727711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thefaultinoursummers/pseuds/Thefaultinoursummers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So when Louis taps out the keys to spell ‘Larry Stylinson’ in his Google image search, maybe is isn’t such a big surprise after all. He doesn’t think anything could ever have prepared him for the tsunami of nostalgia and sadness and hurt that washes over him as he stares at the hundreds of pictures of him and Harry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wait For Me To Come Home

Louis doesn’t exactly know what he’s thinking when he types those oh so familiar words into Google images. He hasn’t seen Harry in at least two years, hasn’t seen him since the band broke up, since _they_ broke up. Louis doesn’t like to think that his and Harry’s split was what caused the band to fall apart but perhaps it was. He misses it. He misses the band, he misses touring, and he misses his best friends. Most of all he misses Harry.

Louis has tried to move on, of course he has, after 3 years it would have been weird for him not too. Nothing has felt the same as it was with Harry, nothing has felt _right_. He desperately wants to find something that makes him feel whole again, something that will make him happy, but he can’t, no matter how hard or how many times he tries. 

He doubts Harry even spares a thought for him. They were such a vital part of each other’s lives for 5 years but since everything fell apart and Harry moved to LA, Louis doesn’t think the other boy even has time for him. There is no evidence of Harry actually fully moving on either, he hasn’t had anything solid since they broke up, as far as Louis and the press are aware anyway. Louis hopes Harry doesn’t miss him half as much as he misses Harry, he would never wish that much pain on anyone.

The constant dull ache in Louis’ chest that never really goes away reminds him just how much of himself Harry has taken with him. Louis had given Harry everything, unpicked himself and let Harry see him for all he was. He didn’t realise that when Harry left, maybe his best bits would be taken with him. It hurts, even when he’s distracted it hurts and Louis doesn’t know how to make it go away.

Countless times he has been tempted just to send Harry a quick text, nothing more or less than a ‘Hi, how are you?’ but he had chickened out too many times. He never did it, still hasn’t, he suspects now that the number he has in his phone is long since out-dated and the words would be too awkward, too loud after such a long period of silence. He dares not risk it. Louis still follows his twitter, his instagram, all of his social networking profiles. He watches Harry’s life in pictures like he used to watch him fall asleep. Through each picture he can feel Harry forgetting him, just like he used to feel Harry’s breath on his cheek as they cuddled or as they leaned in for a kiss. Harry looks happy in the selfies he posts with his friends, and not the faux happy that Louis thinks he himself manages to achieve, but a real happy. The kind of happy that says he doesn’t miss Louis, not even a little bit.

The songs that Louis had written for each and every one of the One Direction albums were about Harry, even if the pronouns couldn’t be the same. When he and Harry fell apart, the songs didn’t mean anything, they weren’t right, the whole dynamic of the band wasn’t right. It would have been impossible to continue really. 

The thing is, Louis can’t remember exactly why he and Harry fell apart. He had never known anyone who loved him so vicariously, never had anyone to love so vicariously, where did it all go wrong? He can only remember yelling and crying and then begging and more crying and then no Harry and just crying. He can remember Liam trying to comfort him, yet not take sides, he can remember irresponsibly flying to Zayn’s house one night before one of their last shows, just because he hoped it would make him feel better. Nothing had worked. Louis remembers pain and tears and feeling like he would never be happy again. Maybe it was just to hard to keep it a secret, maybe under pressure it all just fell apart, maybe Harry didn’t want him anymore. Louis doesn’t like to think it could possibly be the latter of the three. He’ll never know.

He doesn’t know if it hurts more that he’s kept in contact with Liam and Niall and even Zayn who left much before the band finally broke up. He’s in contact with all of them but Harry isn’t present. They aren’t as close as they used to be, the other boys have moved on with their lives, it’s only Louis who is stuck in the same place, forever reminiscing. There are times when Louis thinks he hears Harry’s voice or his long fingers clumsily playing the notes on the grand piano that resides by the huge windows in their living room.

So when Louis taps out the keys to spell ‘Larry Stylinson’ in his Google image search, maybe is isn’t such a big surprise after all. He doesn’t think anything could ever have prepared him for the tsunami of nostalgia and sadness and hurt that washes over him as he stares at the hundreds of pictures of him and Harry. Although a vast majority of them are manips the fans have made, a lot of them are genuine. They look happy. They look _so_ happy. Louis closes his eyes for a moment and wonders in what universe he had thought this would be a good idea. Memories are a special kind of self-torture. 

The pictures that they had had up of the two of them around the house have long since been taken down. Liam had told Louis it was ‘unhealthy’ to have them up when he and Harry had broken up. Liam had taken them down whilst Louis watched in horror. That was the first major change that the house had been through, other than Harry’s clothes and personal belongings being removed. Louis used to count himself amongst those belongings.

Some of the pictures are of a young, cherub cheeked Harry staring at him during interviews. The look in his eyes is intense, obviously love, so intense that Louis wonders how he ever could have doubted that Harry loved him. Louis remembers feeling the heat of those stares on him and remembers resisting the urge to twist around and to meet Harry’s gaze, but he knew it wasn’t allowed. Even from such a young age, there were so many rules, they were so penned in. Louis can still remember the exact moment that Harry was told, by their management, that he couldn’t look at Louis like that. He can remember holding Harry as he had cried into his chest later that night. ‘How am I supposed to control that Lou?’ He can remember Harry asking. ‘I don’t mean to do it, it just happens. I didn’t mean to fall in love with you, it just happened.’

There’s a picture of them looking each other in the eyes a couple of years on from that photo during an interview. Louis remembers that the interviewer had asked them if they wanted kids, even as young as they were. Of course they had said yes. Both of them had always wanted to start a family, whether they do it through adoption or surrogate mothers, it didn’t really matter. Coming from such a big family and loving the atmosphere, Louis has always wanted to recreate that for his own kids. Harry is just perfect with kids, knows how to behave around them, knows how to entertain them, knows exactly what they need and when they need it. Louis might be bias but they would have made the best dads. It’s a shame it never got that far.

As Louis scrolls down, there’s a picture of them both looking unhappy, the first one. The other boys are there too and he and Harry aren’t standing near each other. Louis guesses it was after one of the numerous management meetings in which they were told to ‘tone it down’ whatever that meant. There had been so many of those, so many times when Harry had had to hold somebody else’s hand and say he loved them, so many times when Louis had had to do the same. It always hurt and there were times when they both felt like it wasn’t worth it. Louis can remember blazing rows about when it was going to get better, if it was ever going to get better. He can remember curling up next to Harry sobbing throughout the whole ‘Haylor’ business and telling him that it hurt too much, it hurt more than it made him happy. He remembers Harry hugging him close and rubbing his back and telling him to hold on, it would only be a couple more months. Those months turned into a couple more years and those couple more years turned into never. They didn’t last long enough to know what freedom felt like, they didn’t last long enough to know what it would feel like to be finally let free of their shackles.

Louis thinks that the fan manips are just as bad as the real things. Although he cant attach any of his own memories to those photos, it hurts how much the fans believed it, how much they wanted it to be true. It was true, but they never knew that, they will never know that. Some of them are so realistic, he and Harry taking selfies together, him and Harry cuddling, him and Harry just being together. Louis wishes that they had never ended it, that the fans could have seen how great it was. Louis wishes they could have been stronger, wishes _he_ could have been stronger, wishes he could have been good enough for Harry to make him want to stay.

It was Harry who had ended it but neither of them was more at fault than the other, not really. It had been days of arguments and crying and screaming at each other before Harry did it, at 3am while Louis stared at him in disbelief. Harry was crying, so hard his words were barely coming out in an audible manner and Louis was crying too. They were a mess, and they still are very much so. But now it is a very quiet mess. Louis would never have been strong enough to end it, never wanted too either, but he also didn’t want to make Harry even unhappier than he obviously already had. He had to let Harry go and he understood that at the time. Now he just wonders why he hadn’t fought harder, hadn’t made Harry stay. Maybe if he had, they would be happy by now.

Looking at these photos, Louis yearns for Harry’s warm embrace, yearns for Harry’s arms wrapped around him from behind, rocking him ever so slightly. When they were like that, wrapped around each other, the silence was soft and comforting, now the silence is so loud it’s all that Louis can hear. He misses the way Harry would manhandle them both into a bath at the end of a particularly stressful day. He misses the way Harry would hum or sing softly to himself as he cooked. He misses the days that they would spend together lounging around and watching movies and sharing sweet, soft kisses that quite often turned into something more. He misses the more energetic days when they would play football out in the garden with the other lads, or play down in the games room together, bright, loud, happy and untouchable. On their days off, they could truly be them and their happiness was invulnerable. So much of their day-to-day life was vulnerable to manipulation, but not their days off. Louis misses being able to go to Harry and cuddle up to him when he was feeling under the weather and murmur ‘Hey, tell me about out future?’ and have Harry knit a whole variety of tales to him, letting Harry tell him just how it was going to be when they could finally be free, when they could be together for everyone to see. It turns out that Louis was letting Harry knit him a web of lies and that none of that happened or ever will.

Louis misses everything. From Harry’s curly hair tickling his nose as they spooned, to his stinky feet that Louis can remember himself complaining endlessly about. He wants Harry back but he knows Harry will never want him. He can’t help himself from reaching for his phone though and opening a new message. In the recipient bar, he types Harry’s name. He waves his thumbs over the keys for a long time before finally tapping out. ‘I miss you.’ He hovers over the send button and eventually presses down, what harm can it do? The number probably isn’t even in use anymore. Louis nearly dies of shock when his phone pings, signalling a reply.

Harry: ‘Who is this? New phone, sorry.’

Louis almost frowns. Harry had got a new phone but hadn’t changed the number, he wonders if this was purely coincidental or whether Harry has always secretly hoped that Louis would make some effort to reach out. He doubts it was the latter but he still clings to a tiny shred of hope. 

Louis: ‘It’s Louis.’ He types back, plain and simple. There’s no need to make it elaborate, Harry will either chose to reply or, upon realising who it is, will go running to the nearest phone store in order to change his number immediately.

Harry: ‘Wait, Louis? As in Louis Tomlinson?’

Louis almost shakes his head. Even after three years he can picture the way Harry’s eyes widen slightly when he’s surprised, the way he can stare at his phone screen like that for minutes without doing anything. It’s the same look as he got when Louis had proposed to him. A sharp lightning bolt of pain zings its way into Louis’ chest and he has to take a few deep breaths before it will dissipate and he can formulate an answer.

Louis: ‘Yeah, it’s me.’

Harry: ‘Lou? Really?’

Louis has to close his eyes for a moment. The boys don’t call him that anymore since Harry always used too, even his mum tries to stay clear of it. To hear that after so long feels foreign and it hurts, it hurts so much.

Louis: ‘Yeah. I’m sorry for not contacting you sooner.’

Harry: ‘Can I call you?’

Louis nods and then realises Harry can’t see him. ‘Of course.’ He sends back. He places his phone on the coffee table in front of him, waiting for the tell-tale vibrating that will signal Harry’s call. He’s suddenly apprehensive, after all, he hasn’t spoken to Harry, hasn’t heard his voice, in 3 years. He closes his eyes and breathes a deep breath in in an attempt to centre himself. No sooner as he done this does his phone start buzzing furiously against the table. He takes one more deep breath and reaches for it, another and then presses the green answer button. “Hey.” His voice comes out softer and shakier than he means it to.

“Oh my god.” Harry breathes on the other end of the phone, he does sound genuinely as if he’s in awe. “It really is you.”

Louis chuckles softly. “Yeah, it really is me, and it really is you. How come you haven’t changed your number?”

He can almost see Harry shrug. “Dunno really, guess I never got around to it.” Harry tells him. “It’s always easier to keep your number when you change your phone though.”

“Mmm, that’s true. “ Louis hums. “Anyway, how have you been?”

“Okay, yeah not too bad.” Harry tells him, he sounds like he’s smiling, he sounds happy. Louis feels happy too, a real happy, he feels full again as Harry’s voice rumbles down the phone and into his ear.

“Yeah, I haven’t been too bad either.” Louis lies. “How’s LA?”

“Same old, same old. It’s been pretty good actually, the weather has been so lovely for a few weeks and there’s been a bit of wind too, couple of waves down on the beach. Could almost imagine you surfing out there.” He sighs then, what Louis likes to think is wistfully. “I’ve really missed you Lou.”

Louis bites his lip against the sudden onslaught of emotion that hits. “Yeah, I’ve missed you too. I’m like, really sorry for not keeping in touch. Sounds really lovely though.”

“I should’ve tried to keep in touch too, I’m sorry too. I just… I miss you all but I’ve seen the others a bit, not very often because I live so far away, but I don’t know. I miss you all the time.”

Louis feels a lump forming in his throat and has to close his eyes against the sudden rush of liquid in them. “I miss you all the time too.” He whispers, his voice coming out strained. “I’m glad we’re finally talking again.” He sniffles softly as a single tear trickles down his cheek. He wishes he could tell Harry the truth, that he loves him and that he wants him back but the fear of rejection far outweighs the longing to reveal his true colours to Harry.

“I’m really glad.” Harry tells him. “What prompted you to phone?” 

“Just reminiscing I guess.” Louis murmurs. “Like I said I missed you and also I thought you would have changed your number so this would be fruitless anyway.”

“I’m seriously glad I hadn’t.” Harry murmurs, he sounds so honest, just like he always was, even when Louis didn’t want to hear the truth.

Louis jumps when there’s a loud knock on his door. “Look I have to go, I have an unexpected visitor.” He tells Harry. “I’ll talk to you later, feel free to text or call anytime.”

“Okay, talk to you later. Bye Lou.”

“Bye Haz.” Louis quickly hangs up the phone and tosses it carelessly onto the coffee table before rushing to the door. He pulls it open quickly and plasters a smile on his face.

“Have you been crying?” Is the first thing Liam asks when he sees Louis.

“Hello to you too Li.” Louis snipes sarcastically.

“No, seriously, have you?” Liam asks, stepping around him and into the house. Louis watches as he sets a couple of bottles of beer on the table next to his phone.

“What does it matter?” Louis asks, closing the door and flopping down on the sofa.

“Of course it matters!” Liam tells him earnestly. “If you’re upset, I want to help you.”

“Man, you’re so cliché!” Louis tells him dramatically. “I’m sure I’ll survive, I’m fine really.”

“Okay, but why were you crying?” Liam presses, turning tonight’s football game on. 

“Let it drop!” Louis exclaims, reaching for his beer.

“Not until you tell me.” Liam says, producing a bottle opener from his pocked and popping the caps off on both of the bottles.

“Fine!” Louis huffs. “I um, I spoke to Harry.”

Liam chokes on his mouthful of beer and suddenly sits up much straighter. “You did _what_?” He asks, once he’s recovered from his coughing fit.

“Yeah actually, we talked on the phone until you rudely interrupted.” He tells Liam. “Was nice.”

“This isn’t some sick joke is it?” Liam asks.

“No, I actually did speak to him.”

“I’m proud of you.” Liam beams at him. “I’m glad you did, you two friends again now?”

Louis nods. “Seems that way.” He tries not to let a hint of bitterness creep into his voice. Of course he and Harry cant be more than friends again, it’s just hard to hear when it’s all that Louis really wants.

Watching football with Liam and catching up is good. They do this regularly, just to keep in touch and stay friends and it’s nice, it really is, Louis enjoys it a lot. It’s all going fine until Liam reaches for his laptop to look something up and as he opens it, Louis’ most recent Google search appears. The photos of him and Harry stare mockingly back at them and Louis sighs softly as Liam makes a soft hurt noise.

“Oh Louis…” He whispers. “Babe..”

Louis shakes his head. “Don’t worry.” He murmurs quickly, suddenly blinking back tears.

“Is this why you texted him?” Liam asks.

Louis shakes his head again. “Was just sad and lonely and I missed him okay? I just wanted to see if he was okay.”

“You wanted to see if he was okay because you weren’t?” Liam’s question comes out more as a statement than anything.

Louis nods. “Guess so.” He sniffs. “Get rid of it.”

Liam quickly complies, immediately closing the browser and putting the laptop away, whatever he wanted to look up completely forgotten. “I’m sorry you were hurting babes.” He murmurs. “But you understand why things can’t be like they were again, right?”

“Yes. I get it okay, that wasn’t even why I called him.” Louis mutters, crossing his arms over his chest. He knows that isn’t the truth but he might as well try and convince himself as well as Liam, right?

“I know that’s not why you thought you called him but maybe-“

“I’m really tired.” Louis tells him suddenly, done with the direction this conversation is headed in. “I want to go to bed. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”

Liam sighs and stands up. “Alright.” He tells Louis, heading towards the door. “I’ll phone you tomorrow.”

“Yeah. See you Li, thanks for tonight.”

“No worries man, bye.” Liam calls as he departs the house.

Louis breathes a sigh of relief and heads up to his bed. He wraps the covers around himself and closes his eyes, imaging Harry is right next to him.

 

He and Harry get closer over the next few weeks, the text almost constantly and have at least one phone call a day. It’s difficult with the time difference but Louis is almost never busy so it works out very well. They also Skype sometimes which is weird because Louis finds that words don’t come as easy when all he can see is Harry’s beautiful face, he hasn’t changed one bit. Still the same, lovely, lovely boy Louis remembers. 

Louis isn’t exactly expecting a call from Harry at 11am British time. For a start they had said they wouldn’t talk until much later but it also means it’s 3am in LA. “Haz, why are you awake?” Louis uses, instead of the customary hello.

“I couldn’t sleep.” Harry tells him. “I miss you.”

“I know, I miss you too.” They tell each other this at least 3 times a day but it still hasn’t got old, maybe because it is the simple truth. “Why is that keeping you up though H? You’ve been sleeping okay before this haven’t you?”

“I don’t know.” Harry tells him. “Maybe I haven’t slept properly since I last slept next to you.”

Louis’ heart flutters at this and he tries to swallow down the hope that soars in his belly. “Harry that was three years ago, I should hope you’ve had at least one decent nights sleep since then?”

“But I don’t know if I have. Maybe I’ve just got used to it.” Harry says. “Maybe I haven’t, maybe nothing as been right since I’ve been without you.”

“That’s insane.” Louis’ heart is racing and his voice shakes slightly. “You’ve been fine, you’ve been happy.”

“I haven’t been fully happy, not for a long time and I think I’m finally starting to realise why. Ever since I left you I feel like there’s been a part of me missing, I’m never fully whole, I’m never fully happy. But when I hear your voice through the speaker or see you on Skype or even just read your texts, I don’t know, it feels like that part of me is almost back. It’s like I’ve found the right piece of the jigsaw puzzle, I’m just not fitting it in the right way around. I tell you I miss you but I tell you I miss you as a friend. I think that’s a lie, I think I _miss_ you. I miss you as something more. I miss you cuddling up to me with your cold feet tucked in between my legs, I miss your soft little kisses, I miss you being the first thing I see in the morning and the last thing I see at night. I miss you making a mess of the house and me having to tidy up after you. I miss lazy morning sex, I miss your hair when you’ve been surfing, when it goes all curly. I miss you singing in the kitchen, I even miss your shitty taste in music.

But most of all Louis, I miss you. I just miss you as a person. I didn’t know it was even possible to miss someone this much. I miss you everyday without fail and I know it’s been three years and I know this sounds cheesy but I honestly don’t think there has been a day where I have gone without missing you or thinking about you. I don’t think that I ever stopped loving you and I don’t know, I just thought maybe you would feel the same.”

Louis has to bite his lip to keep from sobbing at Harry’s sudden outburst of emotions. Tears are racing their way down his cheeks and he sniffles into the phone, totally overwhelmed. “I miss you too.” He whispers, voice breaking. “And I love you, so much. I never stopped loving you, I wanted too but I couldn’t. I haven’t felt right since you left and I-“ He has to stop then as the lump in his throat is too big to squeeze words out around.

“Shhh.” Harry sounds like he’s crying too. “I know.” 

“I love you, I love you, I love you so much, please don’t ever leave me, please.” Louis begs.

“Lou, love, tell me this isn’t a joke, tell me you’re serious, please?”

It’s desperate and its real and its love. Harry loves him and he loves Harry. They need each other so badly and they love each other so much. They rely on each other so much it hurts, even after 3 years. Louis would truly give his life for this boy. “S’not a joke.” Louis forces out. “I love you.”

“Fuck.” Harry chokes out around a sob. “I love you too.” He tells Louis, so honest, so raw, so full of emotion.

“I miss you.” Louis sobs. “I miss you so fucking much.”

“I miss you too.” Harry tells him sniffling. “Wait for me to come home.”

“Really? Louis asks.

“I’ll get the soonest flight I can, I swear, hang on, lemme look it up.”

“Okay.” Louis nods, clinging to his phone like its some kind of lifeline, like its Harry himself. They don’t talk for a few minutes but Louis can hear Harry breathing and somehow that is enough. It’s comforting, and although he still has tears leaking from his eyes, he feels happier than he has done for three years.

“The next plane with spaces on it doesn’t get in until 3am your time.” Harry tells him softly. “That okay?”

“Book it.” Louis tells him firmly. “Book it right now.”

“Okay.” Harry breathes, Louis can hear his mouse clicking. “Okay, Lou oh my god.”

“Is it done?” Louis asks.

“It’s done.” Harry tells him. “I’m coming home.”

“You’re coming home.” Louis repeats dumbly.

“I can’t believe it. I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” Louis tells him. “I’ve been wanting to tell you since I first texted you, I think that’s why I first texted you.”

“You should have just done it, I might have come to my senses sooner.” Harry chuckles.

“I think it was perfect.” Louis tells him.

“Few to many tears.” Harry laughs. “I have to go pack babe, but I’ll text you? I’ll be _there_ soon!”

“Okay H, love you, speak to you soon.”

“Bye Lou, I love you too.”

Still in shock, Louis manages to tidy the whole house (very unlike him), clean the bathroom (even more unlike him), change the bed covers, do all of the washing up, feed himself and change his clothes at least 5 times before he is ready to go to the airport. It’s 2am as he gets into the car, but he doesn’t feel sleepy, he feels alive. The nerves are rushing through his veins and making him feel like he could run a marathon and keep going after that. It doesn’t take him long to arrive.

As the time nears 3am, the arrivals lounge of Heathrow is next to empty, the silence that hangs there is so strange compared to what Louis used to be used too. The screaming of the fans as they arrived in a new country is something he’ll never forget. Sleepy travellers shuffle through and head straight out of the doors and into awaiting cars or taxicabs, Louis is the only one waiting here tonight. Most flights arriving at this hour are layovers anyway, so there will be no need for the majority of people to pass this way.

He can’t keep still, he’s so nervous. Nervous in a way he can’t remember being for Harry. Right from the start, from their first conversation, their first date, their first kiss, everything had felt so right, so easy, there was never anything to be nervous about. _But this is right_ , Louis reminds himself. There is nothing to be nervous about, Harry loves him and he loves Harry. Simple. He can still barely stop himself from pacing up and down. He keeps checking his phone although he doubts Harry will text him before he gets to him.

When he next looks up, Harry is there, entering the arrivals hall. He looks sleepy but perfect. Perfect in his tight black jeans and baggy white shirt, perfect with his curls pushed back. Perfect with a bag lazily slung over his shoulder. So perfect. The moment he sees Louis, their eyes lock. Louis feels hot all over under Harry’s gaze and suddenly can’t stand for there to be even an inch of space between them. He starts moving over to Harry, speeding up the closer he gets and when they finally slam together, Louis feels whole. Harry’s arms encompass him as he drops everything to fulfil Louis’ wish. Louis feels like he’s at home, feels like he’s been found, feels so heartbreakingly happy that the sob that rips its way out of his throat catches him entirely by surprise.

“Shhhh.” Harry whispers, although there are tears leaking out of his eyes too. “Missed you.” Harry tells him, sniffling softly as Louis feels him clutch his body even closer.

“Missed you too.” Louis tells him, trying to stifle the next couple of sobs and mostly failing. “So much.” He doesn’t know how long they stand there clutching each other, it could be seconds, or minutes or even hours. Time seems to pass differently when your whole world is right there with you. Eventually Louis manages to pull himself out of Harry’s arms. “We should go home.” He whispers, for the first time since Harry’s left, it feels like that house is home again.

Harry nods. “Yeah.” He takes Louis’ hand and his bags in the other. “Lets go.”

The whole way home, Louis is smiling, so different from the nerve-ridden journey there. Harry hums softly a long to the radio and they chat a little bit, but it’s obvious that they’re both completely exhausted. This time the silence between them isn’t deafening, its perfect. When they arrive Louis unlocks the door and lets Harry inside. “Home sweet home.” He murmurs softly.

Harry looks around as he sets his bags down and toes his shoes off. “Missed it. I’m surprised it’s still standing, what with you being here on your own.”

Louis smiles softly, it feels so normal. “I did okay.” He murmurs.

Harry is close again then, all up in his space, big hand cupping his jaw as his thumb smoothes over the dark circle under one of Louis’ eyes. “You did perfectly with the house.” He offers Louis a quick little smile and knocks their foreheads together. “Just wish you could have looked after yourself a little better.” His arms come up to encircle Louis and hold him close.

“I’m okay.” Louis promises. “I’m okay now.”

Harry nods and slides a hand down Louis’ back and around his hip, finding his hand and pulling them apart so he can lead Louis up the stairs to their room. Louis follows him naturally, he’s always followed Harry. Harry is his anchor. He smiles as he looks down at their tattoos. They still match, not that Louis would have expected it to be different. They fit together like a jigsaw piece, like they were always meant too.

A little sigh leaves Harry’s lips as they enter the bedroom. It’s all the same, Louis had made sure not to move anything, he couldn’t bear it. This is the only room in the house that has not changed at all. Wordlessly, they undress and climb into the big bed. The bed that only last night had felt so big and so lonely. The bed that Louis now feels like he belongs in. He cuddles up against Harry’s chest and closes his eyes. Harry’s arms wrap around him and he feels Harry’s nose press against the top of his head.

“I missed you.” Harry whispers, he sounds sleepy and tearful. “Missed you so fucking much.”

“I know.” Louis whispers. “I missed you too. Can’t believe you’re here.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

For the first time in three years Louis falls asleep feeling loved, feeling happy, feeling like he belongs.

_Fin._

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! I'm sorry I wrote this so randomly and quickly and it's terribly self indulgent! Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated! If you feel like a chat I'm on tumblr at thefaultinoursummers so stop by and say hi! Thank you for reading!


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